


Too Useful to Shoot

by yodepalma



Series: Dragon Scars [5]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Space Opera, FMA Rarepair Week, Fantasy Creatures, Flirting, Fluff, Humanoid Aliens, Humor, M/M, Meet-Cute, Rare Pairings, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Side Story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-14 08:38:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8006017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yodepalma/pseuds/yodepalma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The only way to get transferred to Mustang's command was to be too annoying to keep around, but just too damn useful to shoot. Havoc was still expecting to get shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Too Useful to Shoot

**Author's Note:**

> Technically written for day 1 of rarepair week, prompt "beginnings". But it was posted so late one could make an argument for day 4 prompt "soulmate au". Sadly not for any prompt on the day it was actually posted, though (today). Am sad.
> 
> THIS STORY WAS NOT SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN??? I haven't even actually started the next part of the series, everything has been CRAZY and I've barely been writing, and then somehow...this...? Was a thing? And. just. i don't know. i give up. *dies in a corner somewhere* (I also started writing a mysterious magic!au? It's mysterious because I haven't actually done the worldbuilding for it yet. I have no idea what I'm doing, just roll with it)
> 
> Anyway, I don't write Havoc or Fuery much, and hopefully it doesn't show too badly here. >> I just think Fuery is adorable and Havoc kicks ass but thinks he doesn't because he's surrounded by MUSTANGS and HAWKEYES and FULLMETALS it can really give a guy a complex ok. So I tried to write them that way. Yes.
> 
> Title exists because the line amused me, and then I realized that it basically sums up Mustang's entire command so~ *jazz hands off the stage*

_Too Useful to Shoot_

It was funny how the upper brass thought being transferred to Mustang’s command was some sort of punishment. Sure, everyone knew the man was an alpha Dragon that had no hope of advancing in the ranks after the stunt he’d pulled on Ishval, and for some people the stagnancy probably _did_ feel like a death sentence. But the smart ones had figured out that Mustang’s continued existence meant that he was just too damn useful to take out back and shoot, which in turn meant that anybody handed over to him was in the same boat. Irritating, yes, probably distrusted, and almost certainly a thorn in the side of any commander that had ever held their leash—but useful.

Havoc wasn’t certain just why _he_ was too useful to shoot. Well, he wasn’t deluded about his own abilities, and he knew he was a damn good sniper and an even better pilot—but weren’t a lot of other soldiers? Maybe not so many of them could do both, at least not to his caliber. But keeping him around just for those two skills, when they had billions of other people across the known ‘verse that they could put onto the front lines at a word? It seemed ridiculous to him, after all the hands he’d bitten.

Maybe they were hoping he’d bite Mustang too.

Thing was, everything he’d heard about Mustang suggested he’d be happy as a part of that team. Crazy rumors of the shit he could do notwithstanding (breathing fire in his human form, _really_?), scuttlebutt said he cared about his men, put his own ship right out on the frontlines with the rest of them, ate the same meager rations at the same little tables and drank the same swill as if he wasn’t any better than they were. In short, he treated them like they were his own pack.

The thought always brought Havoc up short. He’d never had a military official that thought of the men as anything but cannon fodder before, and it was hard to think that even this Mustang guy would be any different. Dragons were possessive, territorial, somewhat overbearing creatures—but not of other races’ soldiers. It was part of why so many of them were valued as ranking officers. If you wanted a job done, you called on a Dragon, and then you got the hell out of their way.

With a shake of his head, Havoc snapped his bag closed and threw it over his shoulder. A shuttle would take him and a couple other men to Mustang’s command ship, where they’d be sorted into their new units and life would begin anew.

“Things won’t be the same around here without you, man,” his bunkmate said mournfully as Havoc strode out of the room. “Nobody makes fun of Gran’s mustache with your flair.”

Havoc laughed and gave him a half-hearted salute. “I move on to bigger and better things,” he said cheerfully. “Say nice things at my memorial when the Dragon kills me, eh?”

The other soldier’s bright laughter followed him down the corridor, and his tail curled contently in the air. He knew a good omen when he heard one.

An hour later, and he was huffing with some irritation as he waited for the person who was supposed to give him his orders. The two other soldiers had been lead off a few minutes earlier by a pretty brunette woman who’d grinned at Havoc’s flirtatious wink, but there was no sign of anybody else even remotely official. Eyeing the milling crewmen with well-honed suspicion, he pulled a pack of cigarettes out of the inner pocket of his jacket. If he was going to be kept waiting, he’d might as well indulge.

“Second Lieutenant Havoc?” a bright voice said from behind him. Havoc swore around the cigarette he’d just placed in between his lips.

“Yeah, ‘s me,” he said reluctantly, and put the pack away before he turned around. He was prepared to start making apologies for the cigarette he still held in between his fingers, but he paused in surprise when he noticed that the man speaking to him was actually a couple ranks _below_ him. He was also a head or two shorter, wearing thick glasses and smiling way too happily for the moment. His floppy ears were up in excitement, and when Havoc leaned slightly to the side to look, he saw a short, stubby tail that was whipping back in forth in obvious excitement.

It was actually weirdly, _annoyingly_ adorable. He had to smile.

“I’m from communications, sorry we couldn’t get anyone from the flight crew down here to greet you but they’re all busy getting ready for take-off,” the guy said in a rush, sounding a little breathless. Whether it was his obvious excitement or because he had run all the way down here to get him, Havoc wasn’t sure. “Or he could’ve sent Hawkeye, I guess. You’re a sniper too, right?”

“Yup. Expertise in flying, sniping, and being a smartass.” Havoc let himself grin. “Not really good for much else, though.”

“Oh, well, you’ll fit right in then!” His ears sagged a little. “You might not want to talk back to Hawkeye, though. She’s, um. Terrifying?”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Havoc said warmly. “So, you got a name, Mr. Communications? Or is finding out what it is part of the ritual hazing?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” The guy blushed lightly, and his smile was nervous as he held out his hand. “I’m Kain Fuery.”

Havoc dropped his cigarette.

“You…?” he croaked, a little stunned. Kain’s smile wavered uncertainly, but it was the dip of his hand that forced Havoc into movement again. He grabbed Kain’s hand and pulled him into a tight hug, burying his nose in his short hair. Kain squeaked in alarm, but hugged back with equal fervor.

“I had no idea you were here,” Havoc muttered, ignoring the taste of Kain’s hair gel. “I’d have tried harder to get reassigned earlier if I had.”

“It’s okay. I haven’t been here long.” Kain pulled back slightly and beamed up at him. “I might have taken over the job of fetching you from someone else. I wanted to meet you without anyone else around.”

“Probably for the best,” Havoc admitted ruefully. “My reaction wasn’t exactly graceful.”

“I’ve seen worse,” Kain assured him. He moved in again and tucked his nose hesitantly under Havoc’s jaw. When Havoc didn’t protest, he took a deep breath, and his body relaxed entirely. Havoc held him a little closer and nuzzled an ear, which twitched and lightly slapped his face.

“Aren’t you supposed to take me to my new bunk?” he asked softly. “Introduce me to my bunkmates? If they’re even there at this time of day, that is.”

“I’m _supposed_ to take you to the command deck,” Kain corrected, not that he sounded like he wanted to. “Mustang wants to meet you.”

That was enough to put a halt to Havoc’s shameless flirting. What the hell did the man want to meet him for, if he hadn’t met with either of the soldiers that had come with him? He knew he’d stuck out in Gran’s command, being one of the few idiots daring enough—or maybe _dumb_ enough—to mouth off to him straight to his face, but that wasn’t any reason for Mustang to want a word with him.

Maybe it was just a warning not to do the same to him. Posturing, like. He hoped to hell it was just posturing.

“Better get a move on, I guess,” Havoc muttered, wishing he’d had a minute or two to smoke now. “Never met an officer who liked to be kept waiting.”

“The Colonel’s patient when he wants to be,” Kain said reassuringly, and gave Havoc a shyly mischievous smile. “If we take the long route but walk fast, he probably won’t say anything.”

Havoc caught himself by surprise when he laughed despite his nerves, and had to resist the urge to kiss Kain in appreciation. He suspected if he let himself start now, he wouldn’t be able to convince himself to stop any time soon.

Instead, he took his soulmate’s hand and let Kain lead him along a winding path through ship. He suspected they weren’t moving as quickly as they ought to be, but as he felt his tail wave behind him in an idle content he was unfamiliar with, he wasn’t certain how much he cared. Officers could wait. It wasn’t every day you met your soulmate.

Sadly, battleships could only be so big before they were made impractical, and they were soon approaching the doors of the command deck. Havoc made an annoyed face at them, not wanting to disturb the peace he had with Kain, but they opened automatically as soon as they registered the presence of a pair of hominids.

Most command decks Havoc had been on were hectic with activity as takeoff approached, but this one was almost disturbing in its relative calm. The man in the middle of the room wasn’t even the one issuing orders; instead, a severe-looking blonde woman was standing nearby and speaking in clipped tones in his stead. She didn’t even consult him before she spoke. In fact, it appeared as if the Colonel, leaning against the arm of the chair with his eyes closed, was fast asleep.

“That’s First Lieutenant Hawkeye,” Kain whispered to Havoc. “She keeps the Colonel in line.”

Havoc quickly turned his laughter into an awkward cough, and Lieutenant Hawkeye turned to them with a sharp frown. Kain straightened his back, disentangling himself from Havoc with a cute blush and a perfect salute. Havoc’s was a bit lazier, but he’d never given a good salute unless it was to prove a point.

“Second Lieutenant Jean Havoc,” Hawkeye said. “They warned us you’d be irreverent to the point of insubordination. And a troublemaker.”

“Not without just cause, ma’am,” Havoc said. Kain kicked his leg, not very gently or with a great amount of subtlety. A smile might have flickered briefly at the corner of Hawkeye’s lips, but Havoc wasn’t sure.

“Do not allow yourself to find _‘just cause’_ on this ship, Lieutenant,” Hawkeye said flatly. “I won’t tolerate interruptions in the way this crew runs, and you will find the punishments to be severe.”

Havoc bit his tongue on the question of how much _Mustang_ would tolerate, and settled for an even intonation of “Yes, ma’am” that wouldn’t get him into any trouble on his first day. Hawkeye eyed him somewhat suspiciously, but let the response go with a sharp nod.

Havoc assumed that was pretty much going to be everything she wanted from him, but then she gestured to one of the co-pilots. The woman instantly leapt from her seat, snapping off a textbook salute.

“Second Lieutenant Panzer will be leaving us for another command when we reach the next planet,” Hawkeye said. “Second Lieutenant Havoc, you are one of a few soldiers in the entire force that holds a similar set of abilities as hers, and as such you will be in training as her replacement, effective immediately. I expect you to be capable of piloting this ship in an emergency by the time she leaves, or you will be transferred to another station as well. Is that understood?”

Havoc pulled his brain together with a huge effort as the Lieutenant finished her speech, but still had to clear his throat before he could squeak out another “Yes, ma’am.” Panzer spared him a sympathetic smile as Hawkeye waved her back to her seat.

“You may have the rest of the day to settle into your new bunk,” Hawkeye continued relentlessly. “Communications Officer Fuery can show you where it is before he _gets back to work_.”

She gave Kain a stern look, but there was a fondness underlying it. Kain’s smile was bright as he saluted his acknowledgment and turned to leave.

Havoc numbly followed suit, his head spinning. Being part of the flight team wasn’t really a surprise, but it was unheard of for somebody new to a command to be given the position of the _first_ co-pilot. Mustang didn’t know a damn thing about Havoc; as far as he knew, Havoc could choke in an emergency and send them all to their fiery deaths.

“Is he _insane_?” Havoc asked after they’d walked in silence for a few minutes. “I’ve never flown alone, and I’ve only emergency landed twice! And those were single-pilot jets!”

Kain wrapped both of his arms around Havoc’s free one and tangled their fingers together, leaning into him to provide comfort.

“Gran never said anything bad about your flying, which is apparently high praise coming from him,” he said. “And the Colonel’s read all of the field reports on you, of course, which never say anything bad about your _work_ , just your attitude. And I think it helps, a bit, that he does at least know me.”

“What does knowing you have to do with my flying?” Havoc asked blankly.

“You’re my soulmate,” Kain explained softly, his ears drooping a little in uncertainty as he looked up at Havoc. “I mean, I don’t get to interact with the Colonel himself much, but almost nobody does. Mostly we talk to Hawkeye. She seems to like me well enough, and they definitely like the work I put out—they’re not stingy on compliments, like some commanders can be. And I do my best work under pressure.”

“So, what, they’re banking on the whole ‘birds of a feather’ concept?” Havoc asked. “Kinda risky, isn’t it?”

“I think risky might be what he wants,” Kain said quietly.

“What?” Havoc asked sharply, pulling him to a stop. “What do you mean?”

Kain gnawed on his lip, looking around the corridor nervously before he dragged Havoc over to a shadowy corner. Havoc leaned in close to him, understanding the need for privacy but mostly just wanting to provide whatever clumsy comfort he could.

"You don't _really_ think an alpha's content to be shoved in a corner and forgotten, do you? With a tiny little command like us?" Kain whispered, his voice so soft even Havoc could barely hear him. "I don't know what he's planning, but—"

Someone cleared their voice behind Havoc, and he spun around while pulling Kain to him protectively. A gargoyle was standing a few feet down the hall, wings hanging casually behind him. He scratched idly at his nose with one sharp talon.

"Couldn't even make it to your bunks?" he asked with a sharp grin and a wink aimed at Kain. "I expected better outta you, Officer Fuery."

Kain flushed a shade of red Havoc hadn't ever seen before.

"We were just _talking_ , Breda!" he yelped. "I wouldn't do—in the middle of a corridor!"

He really was just adorable.

"Maybe we should keep moving before we _do_ get carried away with our talkin'," Havoc suggested innocently. The gargoyle cackled.

"Don't encourage him, Jean!" Kain snapped, slapping him lightly on the chest. Havoc gave him his best grin, and before he could get yelled at any more, he tilted his soulmate's face up to kiss him. Kain released one little huff of annoyance before he wrapped his arms around Havoc's neck and returned the kiss.

"Sickening," Breda said, his voice doing nothing to dissuade them from their kiss. "The last thing this boat needed was a disgustingly cute couple, you know that?"

Havoc let go of Kain just enough to give him the finger. Breda just laughed and walked away, whistling something strangely cheerless.  
  
He suspected the gargoyle had interrupted them because he'd known what Kain was whispering about, though whether it was to keep Havoc from learning about it or to warn him to be more careful where he spoke, he wasn't sure. Either way, he resolved not to worry himself too much about what Mustang was planning until it happened. He couldn't affect whatever was going on and even if he could... Well. He had one hell of a reason to make it out to the other end now.


End file.
